Happy Anniversary!

I had the privilege of working with some very talented ladies last year when I was asked to participate in the Carnal Reunions anthology. With only one published novella, I have to admit that I was surprised and delighted to be working with such talented authors as Regina Carlysle, Fran Lee, Tessie Bradford, Taylor Tryst, Anny Cook and Cindy Spencer-Pape. You should have heard my knees knocking!

Carnal Reunions is the story of what happens when seven friends get together for their ten year college reunion and each encounter the man she has never been able to forget. The stories were each released separately in e format but the entire anthology can be purchased in print at the Resplendence site: http://www.resplendencepublishing.com/61.html.

I'm going to leave you with a blurb and excerpt of my story IOU. Leave a comment today and you could win a download of Bliss and Nick's story:-)

Blurb:

The morning after her final exams, Bliss Harper woke up in her own bed wearing only her underwear. She didn’t remember how she got there or why there was an I.O.U. tucked into her panties for one night of “Bad Boy Sex” signed by N. Santucci. She had a ten year plan for success and that didn’t include getting involved with handsome Nick Santucci. No more bad decisions involving handsome men for her.

Nick didn’t think Bliss Harper’s version of bad-boy sex had her waking up with the pizza delivery guy trying to save his family’s business. Better to let her live with her fantasies. Ten years later he’s not delivering pizza he’s delivering deals. The terms are simple. He’s planning on negotiating one night into many with the woman who holds the marker on his heart.

Excerpt:

She took a sip of her wine and almost choked when one finger slid up the crack of her silk-covered ass and traced over the tattoo of delicate butterfly wings that very few people knew about.

Her hand started shaking so badly, if she’d had any more wine in her glass it would have spilled. “Ready to pay up Mr. Santucci?” she asked, without turning around.
“Tonight, I’m just Nick,” he whispered in her ear, continuing to trace one lacy wing through the slippery fabric, “the man who owes you one night of sweaty, dirty, bad-boy sex.”

She closed her eyes, letting the deep voice full of dark promises surround her. “Ready when you are,” she said, unable to keep the tremor of excitement out of her voice.

“I’ve been ready since you sent me a copy of my IOU. Did you get my card?”

“I’m trying to remember if we danced that night,” she said, mesmerized by his questing finger.

“You were doing all the dancing. I remember pink toes, pink nipples, a sparkly pink belly ring and this,” he whispered darkly, tracing the butterfly tattoo down. “You were quite a surprise under all those thrift-store clothes. But I think you like surprises. I think you like having secrets.”

He brushed his lips against the still-tingling skin where his whiskery jaw had rubbed her neck. Something flickered along the edge of her memory, but it was hard to concentrate while his breath warmed her ear and his finger warmed…other places. She let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Have you been analyzing me?”

“I’m a businessman. I analyze every situation and come up with the most viable solution.” He chuckled and the vibration fluttered through her.

“And what’s your solution for my particular situation?” she asked, barely breathing while she watched the couples in the middle of the dance floor, and Nick Santucci seduced her in a dark corner where anyone could happen along. She was starting to tingle in places she hadn’t tingled for a long time.

“That a bad boy is exactly what you need tonight.”

Just the suggestion of having a bad boy made her panties wet. It always had. “And are you meticulous…with your solutions?”

“I leave nothing to chance, every option is explored,” he said, tracing winding circles over her ass cheeks. “Sometimes…I have to experiment to be able to take just the right position.” The circles became wider and his warm palm settled on the rounded, silk-covered flesh he’d been teasing. “Especially if a situation is tricky. Say, I don’t have all the information going…in.”

She rode a wave of pleasure, her eyes drifting closed, his hot breath caressing her ear, when he whispered, “Do you have all the information you need?”

She turned, slowly, closing the space between them and opened her eyes. “Oh, my,” she breathed, smiling up at him. Same slim, ruggedly handsome devil, with a five-o’clock shadow and the darkest eyes she’d ever wanted to fall into. His suit was some deep shade of gray. There was a name for it but she couldn’t remember. His white shirt was stark against his olive skin—Stop designing for one minute, you idiot! This is the fantasy you’ve been waiting for.

“Tell me you’re not married,” she said in a rush.

“Not married, never even close,” he said, discreetly lifting his hand away from her butt to circle her waist and draw her even nearer. “Of course, you do realize that if I were really bad, I wouldn’t tell you the truth.”

She stiffened, drawing back. He smiled, lifting his ring finger. No telltale tan lines where a ring would be. She relaxed. Leaning into him, she went up on her toes, whispering into his ear, “I have your IOU tucked into my panties. Ready to pay up?”

He swung her around in a tight circle so that her back was to the crowd on the dance floor. To anyone else they’d look like two old friends sharing a hug, but Bliss squirmed when Nick slid one big, warm hand carefully through the front wrap of her dress, and dipped into the waistband of her panties. She bit her lip and smiled up at his surprise when he found the note and the soft, naked flesh beneath.

He ran one long finger up her bare slit and she dug her fingers into his arms, holding perfectly still to keep from having a screaming orgasm and ending up a boneless heap on the marble floor of the Ambassador Hotel. His gaze turned molten as he withdrew the IOU from her panties and flicked it open.

“The terms are vague,” he murmured, scanning it quickly. “But I don’t see a problem with negotiating as the evening progresses,” he said, his breath hitching just enough to make her smile.

I hope you've enjoyed the excerpt. Thanks for stopping by!
Happy Reading:-)
Paris
http://parisbrandon.com
Red Stilettos-Ellora’s Cave
Head Over Heels-Ellora’s Cave
Assassin’s Kiss-Ellora’s Cave
No Holds Barred-Ellora’s Cave
IOU-A Carnal Reunions Tale-Resplendence Publishing
5 cups Coffee Time Reviews: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/iou.html
Joyfully Reviewed: http://www.joyfullyreviewed.com/reviews/Feb10/iou.pb.html

Red Stilettos Contest!

I’m celebrating the print release of my newest Ellora’s Cave title, RED STILETTOS with a new contest. The anthology includes my story Head Over Heels, plus Whirlwind Affair by Francesca Hawley, Dear Sexy Lexie by Ashlyn Chase and Bad, Bad Girlfriend by Delilah Devlin.

The rules are listed on my website home-page and all you have to do is follow them to be entered in the drawing. And for those of you who comment today some lucky person will be receiving a download of IOU, my short story that’s part of the Carnal Reunions anthology with Resplendence Publishing.

RED STILETTOS:

A New Year’s Day auction and a pair of legendary red stilettos guaranteed to bring the wearer their heart’s desire have four friends pooling their money to take a chance on love. Here’s a blurb and excerpt from Bella’s story, the heroine of Head Over Heels.

Height-challenged Bella Jacienski literally falls head over magic red stilettos into sexy philanthropist’s Rhys Vincent’s arms and wonders if the legend attached to the shoes is true. Has she found her heart’s desire, a passionate, lust-crazed lover who wants only her¬—always?

Rhys can’t keep his big hands off the curvy shopkeeper. Her smile captivates him and her lush body has him behaving totally out of character. Heated glances and sizzling touches turn into a hot office interlude and wild break-the-bed sex that only make him want her more. She thinks the shoes are magic but Rhys knows that Bella is all the magic he needs.

Excerpt:

Rhys Vincent ground his back teeth and took Veronica Smith–Hathaway’s elbow as they crossed the street. It was snowing and not for the first time did he wish he were wearing boots instead of dress shoes with his tux. Ronnie didn’t seem to notice the puddle that soaked her designer heels or the frigid wind that tore at the edges of her flimsy black evening coat. Neither had been designed for January in Kansas City.
Veronica—Ronnie—was his best friend Brian’s estranged wife. She had insisted she knew a shop that had the fedora they needed to complete the scavenger-hunt list—right after he’d politely refused her offer to give him the best sex of his life. Was it too much to ask for a woman who didn’t have an agenda to want to have sex with him? He’d been down the revenge-sex path years ago and it was one he didn’t want to take with a woman he’d known for twenty years.

He’d promised Brian that he’d keep an eye on her and that meant he couldn’t very well let her walk around alone in the Crossroads art district after dark.
As CEO of the Vincent Foundation, he’d put Veronica in charge of the annual event as a favor. One he was coming to regret. He was still trying to figure out why Brian was so worried about a wife he’d clearly been neglecting for the past year when Ronnie leaned over and peered into a dimly lit shop.

“There it is,” she hissed, pointing at a weathered brown fedora, jauntily perched on a torso mannequin’s head. Before he could figure out why she was hissing, he glanced through the window, started to shout and everything went into slow motion.

He saw a pair of curvy legs that ended in sexy red spike heels leaning forward and overbalancing a rickety ladder. The bell over the door jangled as he pushed it open and sprinted three full strides. He reached her before she finished screaming.

“She” was an armful of black and white fluff he grabbed and swept out of the way as the ladder fell.

Maybe he couldn’t breathe because she’d smacked him square in the chest but he didn’t think so. Although it could have been because her arms were wrapped solidly around his neck, as if she didn’t intend to let go anytime soon. Fine by him.

He didn’t know if she was shocked that he’d caught her or because she knew the shudder that rippled through her like a faint orgasm had telegraphed its way into his fingertips. She looked like a naughty fairy-tale princess with big blue eyes. A fall of silky dark hair brushed the top of her black turtleneck and her creamy cheeks were flushed as bright as an apple. She knew.

Have a safe and happy Labor Day weekend and until next month,
Happy Reading!
Paris